[ The backseat is a mess of blood, pools of his, smears of Dean's. The shirt that hangs half off of Castiel is more red than white, and even Dean is striped in it, from his wrists to the smear of a handprint that remains on his jacket's shoulder as Castiel finally releases him and lets his hand fall away. His shoulder, or what little Castiel can see of it when he looks down, might just be the cleanest thing in the vehicle now: cleaned and freshly bandaged.
Castiel stares at it, exhausted and disbelieving. Maybe he passed out already, he thinks, and this is all imagined. Maybe they hit that tree after all. It would make more sense than Dean saving his life when Castiel has done nothing to deserve it and everything to deserve Dean's ire.
Slowly, wide-eyed with confusion and disorientation, he looks at Dean again. ]
Thank you.
[ There's a rumbling of a car on the road as it drives slowly past where they've careened off, the first car to pass theirs in miles, even before Castiel took them into the brush. Up the road it pulls over, and apparently having noticed the crash, it begins to back up towards them. ]
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Castiel stares at it, exhausted and disbelieving. Maybe he passed out already, he thinks, and this is all imagined. Maybe they hit that tree after all. It would make more sense than Dean saving his life when Castiel has done nothing to deserve it and everything to deserve Dean's ire.
Slowly, wide-eyed with confusion and disorientation, he looks at Dean again. ]
Thank you.
[ There's a rumbling of a car on the road as it drives slowly past where they've careened off, the first car to pass theirs in miles, even before Castiel took them into the brush. Up the road it pulls over, and apparently having noticed the crash, it begins to back up towards them. ]